


How Nervousness Becomes Laughter

by helens78



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Romance, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-20
Updated: 2004-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:43:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karl and Marton are getting married!  Karl and Marton are getting married!  Okay, somebody's a little nervous, but that's nothing their friends and loved ones can't take care of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Nervousness Becomes Laughter

**Author's Note:**

> For [](http://www.livejournal.com/users/darknight999/profile)[**darknight999**](http://www.livejournal.com/users/darknight999/), who wanted [dancing, bells and laughter](http://www.livejournal.com/users/thejennabides/384082.html?thread=2380114#t2380114) and didn't want to see anger or regrets.

Karl's growling.

When Karl's growling, half the time it's because he's too horny to speak and half the time it's because he's frustrated with something. Marton's been with him long enough to recognize it as the latter this time.

"Here, let me help you." He steps up behind Karl and looks over Karl's shoulder, reaching for Karl's bow tie. "It's not so bad."

"It's fucking _crooked_ and I can't _fix_ it. I've tried."

"Sshhh." Marton kisses the back of Karl's neck before straightening Karl's tie with a few deft motions. "Better?"

Karl leans back against Marton and lets Marton hug him. "Better, yeah," he says softly. "How are you?"

"My tie's fine, thank you."

Karl snorts and reaches behind himself -- a little awkwardly -- to smack Marton on the arse. "_Besides_ the tie."

"Well, the tux is comfortable, too--"

"Hey." Karl digs his fingers into Marton's thigh and fixes his eyes on Marton's in the mirror. "Don't make me turn you over my knee before the ceremony."

"Don't make me put you on your knees before the reception," Marton murmurs, tightening his arms around Karl's chest. "You'd wear out the knees of your trousers and I'd have my cock so deep down your throat you wouldn't be able to cheer your own wedding toast."

Karl's eyes go wide, and he loosens his grip on Marton's thigh. He even stops growling. Marton grins.

"Like that idea, do you?"

"Yes..."

"Maybe afterwards." Marton licks Karl's earlobe, draws it into his mouth, bites at it lightly. "After everyone's gone home, and we're up in our hotel room. Would you like my fist in your hair, dragging you forward on my cock?"

"_Yes._"

Marton presses his hips forward, cock rubbing against Karl's arse. "Want me to hold you down on the floor afterwards and fuck you?"

"God, yes..."

"Put my hand over your mouth so you can't scream when I'm driving into you?" Marton reaches up, slips his fingers gently over Karl's mouth. He leaves Karl enough room to speak, but instead Karl simply licks at his fingers, nips and bites at them, growling all over again.

Marton holds Karl even tighter with the arm that's still curled around his waist. "You'll be licking at my wedding ring if you do that tonight."

Karl groans, closing his eyes and sinking back into Marton's arms. "Christ, Marton..."

Marton lets his hand drop away from Karl's mouth, hugging him again. "You think you can handle going out there in front of all those people now?"

"Yeah." Karl swallows. "Yeah. Let's go."

* * *

It's not small by any means; the guest list just grew and grew as they realized that inviting this castmate meant inviting that castmate and they couldn't exactly leave out this stuntfighter or that stuntfighter and by then the guest list was pushing a hundred. So they're taking vows in front of quite a few people, most of whom have been cheering for them for months now.

There's no _dearly beloved, we are gathered here today_; there's no _if anyone has objections to this wedding_. But it is happening in a church; that was important enough to Marton that he insisted, even though Karl nearly had a coronary over the idea.

_"They won't want us. Come on. We'll have to look everywhere for someone who'll even think about performing the ceremony--"_

_"Then we'll look everywhere. I don't give a damn what you hear in the papers or on the news. Not everyone's going to hate us for this." A pointed look skyward. "Not everyone, Karl."_

And the rings slide on, one after another. _With this ring I thee wed._ Karl's not growling anymore, and neither is Marton. They're both smiling, ear-to-ear, and somewhere not too far away they can hear churchbells when they kiss for the first time as husbands. _Husbands._

"I now pronounce you man and man, spouses, husbands, two as one. What God has put together, let no man put asunder."

"Don't worry," Karl whispers to Marton, hugging him hard. "I'd kill anyone who tried."

* * *

The reception's loud and brash and full of raunchy jokes and bawdy refrains, but through it all there's nothing that can even come close to the way Karl and Marton are lit up, smiling at each other, smiling at their friends. It's so good, so _right_, that even when Orlando grabs Karl by the arm and insists on forcing the man to dance, Karl doesn't growl. He just does it, grinning and moving to a too-fast disco beat while Marton watches.

But as the song's ending, Karl looks around for Marton. He's not at the table, not anywhere nearby in the crowd. He frowns, figuring he'll go look for his new husband (_his husband_, he thinks, wondering if he'll get tired of the way those words sound in sequence anytime soon) as soon as the song finishes and Orlando lets him go. This idea sounds even better when ABBA fades out and Elvis Presley fades in, one of those godawful romantic songs Marton sings in the shower when he thinks Karl isn't listening.

He turns around, meaning to head for the table and see if anyone's seen Marton around, when his path's blocked by six-foot-some of tall, dark, and grinning. "_There_ you are -- come on, let's--"

"No." Marton slips his arms around Karl's neck. "You're staying right here. And dancing with me."

"You're cracked," Karl sputters. "You're insane. No."

"Please." Marton leans forward, brushes his lips across Karl's ear. "Please?"

And Karl could argue more. He could drag Marton off the dance floor if he really wanted to.

But that look on Marton's face said it all -- hope and love and joy and all the things they want for their marriage -- and Karl doesn't want to walk off the dance floor without giving him all those things and more.

"All right," he whispers back. "I'll dance."

Neither one of them's ever danced this way with another man before. Karl's never even danced this way with a girl. There's no good way to decide who leads and who follows; they both have to do both in turn, and both of them end up stepping on each other's feet. But for all of that, the smile on Marton's face doesn't go anywhere, and when he ends up crooning along with Elvis, Karl's not even surprised.

"_Take my hand..._"

"You crazy fucking wanker." Hard to say things like that with a grin that stretches ear-to-ear, but Karl manages.

"_...take my whole life, too..._"

"Insane. You were just waiting for the wedding to show me how insane you are, weren't you?"

"Maybe." Marton grins. "You're stuck now."

Karl laughs and throws his arms around Marton's neck. It stops the dance in its tracks, but Marton doesn't mind. He hugs back solidly, laughing and feeling Karl's shoulders shake and pressing hot, openmouthed kisses to Karl's cheek.

"Love you," Karl whispers into Marton's shoulder. "Can we get out of here soon?"

Marton nods, hugging even harder before he finally lets Karl go. "As soon as Elvis finishes up. Love you, too."

_-end-_


End file.
